Grand Schemes.

Tongue In Chic

Sitcoms Set The Stage For A Lark Of A Loft

April 04, 1993|By Victoria Lautman.

It's hard to imagine the "I Love Lucy" show, the Henri Bendel store and the seductive harem-esque bottle interior of "I Dream of Jeannie" sharing equal billing as inspirations for apartment decor. But such were the unlikely forces behind this rental loft in Printer's Row where Phil Johnson and Seth Krosner created a theatrical stage-set of a home with $5,000 and a lot of chutzpah. Campy? No question. But who says "playful" and "sophisticated" are mutually exclusive?

"We wanted to do something a little wild here, and thanks to the 12-foot-high ceilings, we could get away with ideas that were just too big and stagey for a normal apartment," says Johnson, an actor in the current production of "Miss Saigon" who has spent much of the last six months haunting flea markets, Minnesota Fabrics, Salvage One and as many Ace Hardware locations as it took to get 10 gallons of gold paint. The results, with home-upholstered chairs, refinished tables, hand-painted wall finishes and plenty of rayon drapery "is all based on good, even grand design that we just sort of kicked in the teeth."

Setting a dramatic tone in the dining room is a showy black and gold light fixture that once graced the Chicago Theater but "looked horrible when Phil bought it-filthy, in bad condition-I hated it," says Krosner, a doctor of emergency medicine who spent hours scrubbing and polishing the $100 "find" back to its former glory. Now, the chandelier's details clearly echo the golden, harlequin-patterned wall that Johnson, ever watchful, copied from a room at Bendel's. But it was Ricky Ricardo's bandstands on "I Love Lucy" that are recalled in a pair of painted wooden panels, painted by Ellen Gould, that cleverly camouflage two ordinary floor lights.

An art form of somewhat higher order (depending on your viewpoint) gave focus to the library, with its mottled green walls and intricate Art Nouveau border. "We wanted to highlight a print by Gustav Klimt that uses a color I'd describe as British Men's Club Green," says Krosner who, along with Johnson, was responsible for the paint job. Artist Gould was again pressed into service to create the complex frieze and the result, which epitomizes the whole abode, "evokes a serious room and makes fun of it at the same time," according to Johnson.

Even in the muted, vaguely neoclassical bedroom, with its palette of black, brown and white, a pair of giant plaster Egyptoid capitals, rescued from a thrift store, add a zinger of dramatic flair, recalling a stage set of ancient Thebes. Clearly, this is one rental unit that's getting to live up to its potential.

"Even though we just lease the place, I wanted to turn it into something distinctive," admits Johnson, who has been in so many traveling productions that he has had no home base for the last two years. "But there's one drawback," points out pragmatist Krosner, who had to be coerced into accepting several of Johnson's design ideas. "Either we paint everything white when we leave or we forfeit the damage deposit."